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A Man Without a Country
 
 

A Man Without a Country [Kindle Edition]

Kurt Vonnegut , Daniel Simon
4.2 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (211 customer reviews)

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Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly

In his first book since 1999, it's just like old times as Vonnegut (now 82) makes with the deeply black humor in this collection of articles written over the last five years, many from the alternative magazine In These Times. But the pessimistic wisecracks may be wearing thin; the conversational tone of the pieces is like Garrison Keillor with a savage undercurrent. Still, the schtick works fine most of the time, underscored by hand-lettered aphorisms between chapters. Some essays suffer from authorial self-indulgence, however, like taking a dull story about mailing a manuscript and stretching it to interminable lengths. Vonnegut reserves special bile for the "psychopathic personalities" (i.e., "smart, personable people who have no consciences") in the Bush administration, which he accuses of invading Iraq so America can score more of the oil to which we have become addicted. People, he says, are just "chimpanzees who get crazy drunk on power." Of course, that's exactly the sort of misanthropy hardcore Vonnegut fans will lap up—the online versions of these pieces are already described as the most popular Web pages in the history of In These Times. (Sept.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Product Description

A Man Without a Country is Kurt Vonnegut’s hilariously funny and razor-sharp look at life ("If I die—God forbid—I would like to go to heaven to ask somebody in charge up there, ‘Hey, what was the good news and what was the bad news?"), art ("To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it."), politics ("I asked former Yankees pitcher Jim Bouton what he thought of our great victory over Iraq and he said, ‘Mohammed Ali versus Mr. Rogers.’"), and the condition of the soul of America today ("What has happened to us?").
Based on short essays and speeches composed over the last five years and plentifully illustrated with artwork by the author throughout, A Man Without a Country gives us Vonnegut both speaking out with indignation and writing tenderly to his fellow Americans, sometimes joking, at other times hopeless, always searching.

Product Details

  • Format: Kindle Edition
  • File Size: 805 KB
  • Print Length: 160 pages
  • Publisher: Seven Stories Press (January 4, 2011)
  • Sold by: Amazon Digital Services
  • Language: English
  • ASIN: B000QUELZ4
  • Text-to-Speech: Enabled
  • Lending: Enabled
  • Average Customer Review: 4.2 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (211 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #34,469 Paid in Kindle Store (See Top 100 Paid in Kindle Store)
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Customer Reviews

211 Reviews
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4 star:
 (40)
3 star:
 (24)
2 star:
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1 star:
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Average Customer Review
4.2 out of 5 stars (211 customer reviews)
 
 
 
 
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83 of 89 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars Crouching Essayist, January 4, 2006
In my review of "Timequake," I labelled Vonnegut as "Novelist Emeritus," noting that his writing is still enjoyable, you read it with half a smile on your face. But you are laughing and smiling with polite respect towards the old master.

I picked up "A Man without a Country" at the Coop and opened at random, and read this paragraph:

"In case you haven't noticed, as the result of a shamelessly rigged election in Florida, in which thousands of African Americans were arbitrarily disenfranchised, we now present ourselves to the rest of the world as proud, grinning, jut-jawed, pitiless war-lovers with appallingly powerful weaponry- who stand unopposed."

He continues on in this vein, and draws parallels between the current worldview of America and the way the world viewed Germany as the Nazis rose to power. He has the clarity and honesty to refer to the characters running the Bush administration as psychopaths.

Wow! I take it all back. Perhaps, in "Timequake" he was burdened with the artifact of a failed novel, but wanted to make something out of it, colored it with his unique perspective but ended up with a softer version of his usual fare. It felt a little lazy, like Vonnegut imitating Vonnegut.

But here, freed from the artifice of fiction, we get classic Vonnegut. In fact, more than a return to form, but better than ever. This book finds him clever and witty, but also very angry and indignant, and righteously so. I have the same concerns and emotions but lack the ability to formulate it and express it in words so beautifully. So it's refreshing to read Vonnegut, and it's inspiring to know that he is not the doddering old professor but a wise old lion with still plenty of bite left.

I won't try to tell you it's all great, that there are none of the soft, self-indulgent moments that detract from his later novels, but there is plenty of greatness on display. Buy it, read it, enjoy it. Thank you for listening.
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393 of 455 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars Everything Was Beautiful, September 28, 2005
Reviews like the one below by the 23-year-old who never had read Vonnegut before this current volume remind me of Mr. V.'s statement (I paraphrase, perhaps grotesquely) that the cumulative effect of the Vietnam-war protests and of '60s activism in general was that of a banana-cream pie hurled off a stepladder: here is unquestionably the Greatest of contemporary American novelists, whose work and vision as a whole provide clarity, wisdom, and guidance with humor and love for both the survival of the species and for America--yet he remains largely ignored and neglected by the current American demos, for whom democracy is named, and reviewed by only 24 or so while the latest potboiler gets 345 Amazon reviews the very day it's published.

Certainly Vonnegut himself is well aware of these vagaries of fame and influence.

But let me heartily proclaim the obvious--that we truly should declare Mr. V.'s birthday a new national holiday (strapping it firmly to the one, for some, it already is on 11/11); schoolchildren should compete in Vonnegut Declamation Contests, vying to repeat from memory the longest and most salient passages from his works; we should have Vonnegut Festivals, Seminars, Television sitcoms, toothpaste, bottled water--even a Vonnegut Party in national, state, and local elections, which might well take the place of the corrupt and anemic Democrats.

Alas, it seems we are repeating the past as the Old Reliables (Studs Terkel, John Leonard, and company) trot out their appropriate praises; some teevee interviews are conducted; the bored Harvard and Yale crowds clap politely; the schoolchildren continue with their videogaming and baby-producing; and New Orleans is reduced to a new Love Canal, Iraq civil-wars, the wealthy bolt their gated enclaves, and the rest of us, debt-torn and grief-fatigued, stew in our own juices.

Look: if you haven't done so recently, go back and reread (or first-read) SLAUGHTERHOUSE-FIVE, CAT'S CRADLE, HOCUS-POCUS, GALAPAGOS, GOD BLESS YOU MR. ROSEWATER, and MOTHER NIGHT (among others: but start with these).

Think about what the man is saying. Look around you. Maybe turn off your television for a moment of silence.

Here is the real deal, folks.

This is our guy. Ignore him at your peril.

Let's get those "Sermon on the Mount" plaques up in every corporate lobby.

Let's get tap-dancing. There's not much time left for a party.
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154 of 182 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars The perfect epilogue., September 13, 2005
Kurt finally concludes the half-century journey on which he has taken us with this hilarious, heartfelt, charming epilogue. Vonnegut gives us literary polaroids of his childhood and day-to-day life, places us at the dinner table with Mark Twain, Jesus, Abraham Lincoln, and Eugene Debs, and manages to answer the question: "What does it mean to be human?" All the while single handedly battling George W. Bush, H-Bombs, and the "Guessers."
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More About the Author

Kurt Vonnegut was born in Indianapolis in 1922. He studied at the universities of Chicago and Tennessee and later began to write short stories for magazines. His first novel, Player Piano, was published in 1951 and since then he has written many novels, among them: The Sirens of Titan (1959), Mother Night (1961), Cat's Cradle (1963), God Bless You Mr Rosewater (1964), Welcome to the Monkey House; a collection of short stories (1968), Breakfast of Champions (1973), Slapstick, or Lonesome No More (1976), Jailbird (1979), Deadeye Dick (1982), Galapagos (1985), Bluebeard (1988) and Hocus Pocus (1990). During the Second World War he was held prisoner in Germany and was present at the bombing of Dresden, an experience which provided the setting for his most famous work to date, Slaughterhouse Five (1969). He has also published a volume of autobiography entitled Palm Sunday (1981) and a collection of essays and speeches, Fates Worse Than Death (1991).

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The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heavens sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something. &quote;
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The last thing I ever wanted was to be alive when the three most powerful people on the whole planet would be named Bush, Dick and Colon. &quote;
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